Now, this summer, when there is so much to grieve, so much to be anxious about, I have been reminded to keep singing, keep that summer song in my heart and share it with others. We only have a precious short time on this little spinning planet, I know I must keep searching for small joys and sing them out loudly.
Category: reading
Portrait of the Artist as an Old Woman
Recently, a good friend told me about Nell Painter’s book, Old in Art School. I knew immediately that I had to push it up to first on my summer reading list. I am indulging in Nell’s journey from Princeton history academic to an BFA at Rutgers’ Mason Gross School of Visual Arts to an MFA from the prestigious Rhode Island School of design. Much of Nell’s book is familiar because she is a Jersey girl and I also attended Rutgers as both an undergraduate and graduate. The essential questions of what is art and who is an artist repeat as a refrain in this memoir. I took a long slow read, trying my best to experience what Nell had lived.
Poetry & Pasta: Kindergarten Wordplay
My love of poetry extended into May this year as I read aloud to our Kindergarten classes. I had read my poetry and facilitated poetry writing with students in 1st through 5th grades in the month of April. Finally, I had a little more time to bring the joy of verse into Kindergarten. I found the perfect picture book to share, Pasta, Pasta Lotsa Pasta by Aimee Lucido. Since I am of Italian heritage, I found this book to be particularly fun and engaging. Ms. Lucido’s wordplay is exquisite and invites young children to join into the rhythm of the story.
Handmade Mother’s Day
Sometimes, I think - "No one cares, this is a lot of work, maybe I should stop doing this." But then there are days, when I see fifteen eager faces at the front door clamoring to get in and start their work - their work of mess and industry and love.
The Art of Poetry: Eating Our Words
I'm not sure what I like to do more: write poetry or make delicious things to eat. I do know that children love to prepare food because of sensory stimulation it entails. Making food from scratch is a creative process, much like writing. You imagine, plan, and then set to work creating something special. Whether the final product is a poem or a delectable dish, the process is the same, and the end results are satisfying.
Stormy Weather: Celebrating Poetry Month
I loved stringing words together. I loved the way they formed in my mouth and rushed out into the air. Poetry was magical, and I felt I had some of that magic in me. Now, as a poet and teacher, I enjoy bringing that love of the spoken word to children. This month, Deborah, my friend and dear librarian at the school where I teach, invited me to be the guest poet during her library times with 1st through 4th graders.
A Much-Needed Spring Break
Thank goodness for spring break. Thank goodness I have the next two weeks to recover and regroup. I desperately need two weeks to bide my time until spring arrives. I am taking seven steps get back in health again.
Mindfulness in Teaching: Be Where Your Feet Are
The author, Suzanne Dailey, noted that she and her girlfriends play a game called “Where are your fee?” in which they send each other photos of their feet to check in with each other about what they are doing and how they are feeling. This game helps each person consider where they are in the present moment. It helps them reflect and shift their attention. It’s a gentle reminder to “Be where your feet are.”
One Last Pearl of Wisdom
Since the moment I met my mother-in-law, we talked about books. We would speak of various characters as if we had actually met them and knew them like we knew family. I loved that about her. She was always exposing me to ideas and events that were new to me. She used books as breadcrumbs to show me the way and expand my thinking.
In Memoriam
In Memoriam Queen Anne Small, delicate - a girl who loved to read all the classics and murder mysteries too. Feisty in her smallness she stood her ground, she knew her own mind. Blossoming like a flower with all manner of ideas. She didn’t need an elaborate name or special place to bloom. She could twist her way around and fit in wherever she wanted, beautiful in her wild way, Forever. This is maybe the hardest post I’ve written to date. I’m trying in words to honor my mother-in-law who died last week at the age of 86. She was small in stature but had a large, quick-witted personality. She was a historian and university librarian, and amazed me with the depth of her knowledge. She graduated high school early, and went to the University of Chicago at the age of 16. I was truly in awe of just how smart she was. We would spend hours talking about literature and historical events. She taught me so much about history, and I loved discussing Jane Austen, Tolkien, Kenneth Grahame and multitudes of other authors. Wind in the Willows was one of her favorite children’s books, but she also adored Winnie the Pooh and Paddington. My mother-in-law was also a dog lover and over the years had four active terriers, the naughtiest being Penny, a Jack Russell, and the most devoted and her last dog, Charlie. When I’d come to visit, we spent time playing with her dogs and watching black & white films from the 1930’s and 40’s. Two of her favorites were Mr. Blandings Builds His Dream House (1948, Carey Grant and Myrna Loy) and Christmas in Connecticut (1945, Barbara Stanwyck and Dennis Morgan). I loved visiting with her on December nights and binge watching these films with her. The movies she loved were always hopeful with a happy ending. She requested to be buried in a yellow floral summer dress, which she wore when she lived in Hawaii. I smiled when I saw the list of her requests: she wanted three books (Persuasion, Wind in the Willows, Lord of the Rings), photos of her four dogs, a copy of a speech she gave to the American Library Association one year, and that yellow dress. I think she had written her own happy ending. I hope she is truly at peace wearing that beautiful flowing yellow dress, looking out into the Pacific Ocean under palm trees with a stack of books by her side, and small terrier dogs in the distance yapping at the waves.
Word Dancer: Literature, the Arts, & Education 